The Boyfriend

The Boyfriend - Part Seven

In front of him, next to the bed, was Mary's dressing table. A jewellery box and numerous sprays and creams and other products were on the table. The centrepiece, a tall oval mirror, caught Andy's eye. Through the reflection, he saw the wall behind him. His heart jumped when he looked at the shadowed corner of the room.

He turned around, seeing the real corner, but didn't see anything wrong. He looked back at the mirror. There it was. The shadowed corner looked the same, except there was more of a shadow in the reflection. The darkness spread further out on the ground.

Andy moved closer to the mirror, trying to make out what that extra darkness was. He looked back at the real corner, and was sure that the shadows weren't the same. He turned back towards the mirror. What is that? He moved his head closer to the mirror, so that his nose was almost touching the glass.

Three long points of darkness were spread out from the bottom edge of the shadow in the corner. Feet, Andy realised. The points sprang to life as a dark figure emerged from the shadows, rushing towards him. Andy jumped back and spun towards the real shadows. The dark figured was there! A thin, gangly shadow with a mess of hair flapping wildly around it. It darted closer, spreading its long, clawed hands.

Andy screamed, throwing his hands up protectively. A cold wind rushed through him as the shadow met him. A dull, numbing sensation washed over him; somehow feeling both calm and familiar.

A baby's cry echoed in Andy's mind. He was no longer in Mary's bedroom, but saw a very strange scene. Babies in small cots in what looked like a hospital room. His focus somehow shifted to the name tag of one of the baby's. He read the name. Andrew Enslin.

Cries came from the cot next to his. A baby wrapped in a pink blanket. Andy read the name of the baby, knowing what it would be. Mary Madina.

Baby Mary wailed and struggled under her blankets. And then she stilled, moaning softly before becoming silent. Deathly silent. Her chest stopped moving. A familiar cold sensation washed over Andy–however it was that he was seeing and feeling these things. The light distorted over baby Mary, appearing to move towards her; into her. Suddenly the baby burst to life, crying louder than before.

She died, Andy realised. Died and then, what, something went into her?

The hospital room wavered, shifting like a reflection in water. Another scene came to Andy. A little girl of about seven or eight, drawing on a table in a house. He recognised the crude style of the drawing, and also the eyes of the dark haired young girl. Mary. The little girl smiled as she put her crayons down, and then crossed her arms over the table and laid her head down, closing her eyes.

The room distorted, blurring like it was being sucked into a great vortex, becoming streams of light. Suddenly a new scene popped up. Andy recognised his younger self right away. He was with William in his room. They were pretending to be different people, making up characters. When little Andy paused, looking around the room, the older Andy remembered the moment. He thought he felt something, at that time. Something cold, and yet comforting.

So that was Mary, his disembodied presence thought. It's been her the whole time. My whole life.

The vision wavered once again, distorting and blurring. Suddenly Andy was back in Mary's room. She still lay by his feet.

It was her the whole time. That person that both me and George saw that night. It wasn't a short person. It was a kid, a young girl. Every strange presence I felt, every face I thought I saw...